


Statistically Anomalous

by beltainefaerie



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Laughter During Sex, M/M, PWP, Penis Friday, Porn, Size Kink, but not done well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 13:48:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5930644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beltainefaerie/pseuds/beltainefaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has watched some of the porn on John's laptop and gives John what he thinks he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Statistically Anomalous

They were in bed and John up to this point had been enjoying a frankly fantastic blowjob, when Sherlock pulled off, looked up at John and said, somewhat breathily, "I can only be satisfied by your statistically anomalous prick. Take me. Preferably now." 

John blinked slowly. It took him a second to realize what his gorgeous, often baffling, lover was doing and he took a steadying breath to stop himself from laughing outright. Instead, he smiled down, cupping Sherlock’s jaw, and said, "When I said I wanted to hear your own words, Sherlock, I didn't mean I wanted to hear paraphrases of that rubbish porn you found on my laptop. Just sound like you."

"So you don't want to hear how it feels when you test the limits of the tensile strength of my sphincter with your enormous dong?"

John lost the battle with laughter for a second, managing to choke out, "Did you honestly just use the word 'dong'?" between giggles.

Sherlock merely shrugged in response, and leant forward to lick a wet stripe up John’s cock. 

That was fine, then. It wasn’t like John wanted a treatise on euphemisms for penises, a few of which in his admittedly limited vocabulary were far more laughable than that one. Especially in the midst of sex.

John shook his head slightly when Sherlock drew back and looked up at him expectantly. John drew Sherlock up to lay beside him, both propped up on one elbow and offered, "I usually watch them on mute." 

Sherlock blinked and his brow furrowed in a perplexity that formed the question, “What?” so clearly that words would have been redundant. His evident frustration and confusion were eloquent enough.

"I turn the sound off. When I," John paused and wrinkled his nose at the word with an air of I-can't-believe-I'm-really-about-to-say-this, "when I wank."

Sherlock paused a moment, absorbing this information, before his mouth broke into a cheeky grin. "So you truly don't want to hear any variant of how much I'd love for you to destroy my hole with your massive prick?"

John winced. "No."

"Suppositions on my likelihood of walking normally tomorrow? Or possibly ever again?"

"Please spare us both the pain."

“Apropos,” Sherlock drawled, then his expression brightened with dawning realization and his lips formed a small O for a moment before he spoke. “It’s easier to imagine yourself in their place when they look like you. The actors. That’s why you have those particular clips saved.”

John rewarded him with a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. “There’s my brilliant man. Now, where were we?”

Sherlock ducked his head, but his eyes twinkled with mischief, “I thought you didn’t want me to tell you.”

“Oh, go on, love.”

“So you aren’t opposed to me waxing poetic about the shapely girth of your trouser snake?” 

They both giggled then collapsed back on the pillows. It should have ruined the mood, but honestly it hadn’t. If anything, the deep rolling chuckles, the healthy flush it brought to Sherlock’s cheeks, only made John’s interest more ardent.

“I shouldn’t have complained about ‘dong’ if you were holding back ‘trouser snake’.”

“I thought you were the one holding back the trouser snake” Sherlock mock pouted, eliciting a fresh bout of laughter from the both of them.

“Not much longer, I’m not. If you stop distracting me.” John patted Sherlock’s hip, nudging him over onto his stomach. 

Sherlock obliged and then went fluidly up to his hands and knees, wiggling his arse slightly. “You like my distractions.”

John noticed with a wave of pleasure that Sherlock had already prepared himself, and the lurid series of images that thought set in motion made his cock throb. John let himself wonder what toys Sherlock had used or whether he had just rocked back against his own slicked fingers seeing how many he could take. The thought made him groan aloud with need as much as the sight of Sherlock spread out before him and he didn't waste anymore time before he guided Sherlock’s hips, aligning their bodies. Sherlock sighed audibly and pressed back against him.

“Greedy, aren’t you.”

“You like that about me too,“ Sherlock added and John swore he could _hear_ Sherlock smirking into the sheets as he worked himself back until John was fully seated. Before either had really adjusted to the sensations of tight heat or fullness, Sherlock rolled his hips. Greedy indeed.

John moaned and Sherlock did it again. After the third time, John had enough teasing and gripped Sherlock’s hips to hold him in place and began a slow slide in and out. 

He pushed in again and again, shifting his hands to knead Sherlock’s cheeks as he quickened the pace. 

Sherlock practically purred under his attentions and bucked of his hips to meet each thrust. 

“Yes, John,” Sherlock began, tapering off into moan as he began to tremble. "More... I need..."

"Yes, tell me what you want, Sherlock," John encouraged, thrusting deep.

"You. I need you to touch me."

John reached around to add to Sherlock’s building pleasure, stroking his palm over the sensitive exposed glans. He was positively dripping, certainly enough to slick John’s hand for the slide up and down in time with his thrusts. 

Sherlock let out a low, a plaintive sound, before managing, “Harder, John. Don’t stop,” followed by a series of plosive sounds that might have been attempts at ‘please’ before he went nonverbal again, offering up nothing more than groans of pleasure as he alternately writhed forward into John’s fist and arched back against him.

Sherlock tensed beneath him and cried out, harsh and wordless as he came.

With a final stroke over the sensitive head that left Sherlock shaking, John released Sherlock’s cock and shifted slightly to grip the headboard with practiced ease, never even losing his rhythm. Using the leverage to drive into Sherlock harder, John rode him through the waves of pleasure, chasing his own climax. 

As he did, Sherlock’s words returned, a stream of consciousness litany of encouragements peppered with John’s name. John only caught half of it as Sherlock’s face was pressed into the pillows, but the words themselves didn’t matter so much as Sherlock’s voice gone gravelly with lust.

When his own orgasm hit, John didn’t even try to hold back, just let himself be swept up in the white hot waves of bliss. 

They lay curled together for a long moment, breath ragged and hearts racing. At last, John planted a kiss between Sherlock’s shoulder blades and pulled out. He grabbed tissues from the bedside and cleaned them up a bit while Sherlock lay in a boneless heap and sighed contentedly.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be posted last night, but I literally fell asleep with the new work screen up. I guess having an almost 9 month old baby is taking a lot out of me. I'm tagging it Penis Friday anyway. 
> 
> Special thanks to Mer and Tiger for betaing.
> 
> This work is sillier than my writing often is, but this idea would not leave me alone. I hope you enjoyed it. If there is anything that particularly amused you or struck your fancy, I'd love to know in the comments.
> 
> You can always find me at beltainefaerie.tumblr.com


End file.
